The old ways are changing, you cannot deny,
The day of the traveller's over.
There's nowhere to go and there's nowhere to bide,
So farewell to the life of the Rover.

Farewell to the tent and the old caravan,
To the tinker, the gipsy, the travelling man.
Farewell to the life of the Rover.

Farewell to the cant and the travelling tongue,
Farewell to the Romany talking.
The buying and selling, the old fortune-telling,
The knock at the door and the hawking.

You've got to move fast to keep up with the times,
For these days a man cannot dander.
There's a by-low to say you must be on your way,
And another to say you can't wander.

Farewell to the beesums of heather and broom,
Farewell to the creel and the basket.
The folks of today they would far sooner pay
For a thing that's been made out of plastic.

Farewell to the pony, the cob and the mare,
The reings and the harness are idle.
You don't need a strap when your breaking up scrap,
So farewell to the bit and the bridle.